


Afternoons in Blue

by Dots



Series: Persona Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Painting, can i make like. Tender a tag, its just Tender, this one is just sweet and happy and silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25072981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dots/pseuds/Dots
Summary: Akira's mornings with Yusuke tended to be peaceful and lazy. Today wasn't an exception, but Yusuke always proved to be full of surprises.
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Persona Tumblr Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815862
Comments: 5
Kudos: 83





	Afternoons in Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :D One shot based off of tumblr prompt line "Were you drawing me?"

Slugs were okay.

Akira didn’t have much of an opinion on them, to be honest. Nothing negative. They were a little goopy, sure, but it wasn’t like that was a bad thing. Sometimes you’re goopy and squishy and occasionally poisonous—that happened to everybody. Akira was sure he’d had a Saturday just like that. They were just little creatures, slugging along.

That being said, he didn’t like them much when they were on his face. He _especially_ wouldn’t like them if they were the poisonous kind. He didn’t think these particular ones were but just for future reference— that would be completely unpleasant. Then he’d be goopy until he died. Just terrible all around.

Not these bad boys, though. Akira was sure they were just your everyday slug. Lucky break. But they were still on his face. He didn’t really want that. Slug along anywhere else, please, he was trying to _relax_. This wasn’t the time.

In his limited periods of consciousness, Akira often thought about how weird it was that he never realized when he was dreaming. Once he was in the dream, he was there. No second thoughts about it. The slugs were on his face now, and that’s where they belonged. But pointedly, again, they were not poisonous. Nice to know his subconscious wasn’t going for a gastropod themed execution.

He woke up blissfully slug-free (thank god). What a morning surprise that would’ve been. He also woke up alone, which wasn’t too unusual, since Yusuke tended to be an early riser. Up and about, doing his creative stuff. Recently, it was sculpting. So far, he’d made a lovely bust of Isaac Newton (and if not him, it was a not-as-lovely bust of Haru), and a pistachio (this one was for sure a pistachio). Akira was happy he was expanding his repertoire, since he seemed to be enjoying himself. He was keeping busy, and he had a career after all.

But the bed _was_ meant for two.

Akira shifted a bit, peeked his eyes open and, oh. He was kind of surprised to see Yusuke sitting not far across from him. He was staring deeply into his sketchbook, very focused and very quiet.

He could always draw in bed. It’d be warmer that way.

“Good morning,” Akira said, lazily stretching out his back. “You sketching?”

He must’ve shocked him, judging by the jolt he got from Yusuke. He usually felt bad when he did that, but today there was something mischievous dancing around in his brain. A tiny goblin who had wanted so desperately to cuddle, probably.

Yusuke looked up to him and seemed stoic. The usual deep bags under his eyes told Akira he’d probably been awake for a while. He wondered what time it was.

A small smile grew on Yusuke’s face. “You’ve awakened. Good afternoon. Please do not move.”

Technical, technical. Akira treated afternoons like mornings, anyway. He relaxed his body back down, trying to look as natural as possible.

“Were you drawing me?” Akira asked. It wouldn’t surprise him, because it’d hardly be the first time. Yusuke liked to make him blush by calling him things like his Muse, or his Starry Night, or his Lobster Fra Diavolo.

“Ah… I suppose,” said Yusuke. He swiveled in his chair, and swept up a dab of paint with a brush. “Now, close your eyes again.”

Akira did. So he was _painting_ him. Again with Yusuke’s technicalities, his _this’s_ and his _that’s_. It was endearing. There was something very sweet about his specifics, since Akira knew he was included in them.

He wondered if he could go back to sleep. If Yusuke wanted him to shut his eyes, the chances went up. He could already feel himself falling into it, drifting farther and farther away. Anyone who knew Akira was well aware that he wasn’t one to pass up opportunities to sleep in (well, sleep in more than he already had). Yusuke knew better than to let him stay in bed, so Akira couldn’t be blamed. And it _was_ for art after all.

But, as they always tended to, the afternoon had something in store for Akira. Goddamn. Today’s example: something cold and wet being splattered onto his forehead. It was... familiar?

He jumped, but in like, a groggy half-awake confused boy way. “Ghh?” Akira mumbled, opening his eyes. Yusuke had gotten very close to him. He hadn’t heard him come over. “What are you…doing.”

Yusuke remained focused as ever, his eyes glued to, uh. Uh?

“Akira, please. I do not want it in your eyes.” The wet spot moved and spread across his brow.

His little brain goblin was working overtime figuring this out. The dots were sleepy and the lines were wiggling, but all connecting nonetheless.

“Are you painting,” Akira began, flinching at the sloppy feeling. “On my face?”

Yusuke lifted his paintbrush and looked very thoughtfully at the smear he’d created. “Do not speak much. I would hate for what has dried to crack.” He turned away, probably to get more paint.

Akira squinted at him. It was already drying? As in _drying_ drying? Oh man.

“How long have you been… at this,” he asked, a little worried for the answer.

Yusuke sighed and shook his head. “Please, my love, if you must talk,” he turned back to face Akira, “try to be minimal. I will be finished soon.”

He returned to Akira’s side, this time with a pool of paint on the back of his hand, probably for quick access. Akira stared silently at him. He wasn’t mad at all, more completely amused. Unique way to spend a morning. He’d woken up before with drawings on his face, but that was usually Futaba scribbling squiggles and mustaches with her sharpies. So, different from a whole new round of oils.

The paint felt weird. It was thick, and the actual spreading of it had been really strange. There were out of body experiences, and then there were all too aware of what is happening right now on your body experiences. Akira was the former. He was pretty surprised it hadn’t woken him up, actually.

Wait.

The slugs.

The non-poisonous slugs.

...That made sense.

Yusuke continued painting. Little swirls and pointed dots. Akira tried to guess what he was doing. The paint he had was blue, so it could be a bird? A fish? He was sure Yusuke would do something more outlandish, though. So a bird... with glasses. Maybe Yusuke would let him name it.

Inevitably, they made eye contact. Akira had been staring pretty relentlessly after all. Yusuke held it for a moment, before something visibly clicked. There it was. Akira had been wondering if he’d remember to answer. He didn’t, always. Yusuke had quite a way with concentration.

Yusuke had run out of paint on his hand, and he turned back to get more. A short silence hung. “A few hours,” he finally said.

So, a while. His projects usually took a bit, so he was glad to hear this hadn’t been an all nighter. That could’ve been nice too, though, because then Yusuke would certainly take a nap. And of course, then Akira would take a nap with him. Which would be great. He’d have to wash all this paint away first, though. He hoped it would come off easy.

It wasn’t like Yusuke had never painted on his body before. But that was usually, you know, doodling with a pen on his arm. Or some grand experiment on his back. Face painting wasn’t technically something out of the ordinary, but Akira’s being unconscious gave it some unique vibes. These inspiration strikes of Yusuke’s always proved charming.

Akira watched as Yusuke readied his brush again. He felt him very gently move some hair out of his face. This wasn’t really a view Akira usually got. Hello there. Being nearsighted came with some perks.

But, all good things had to come to an end. Yusuke looked down at him. “It really is imperative you shut your eyes, now. This would sting.”

He probably spoke from experience. He already knew Yusuke had drunk paint water before. It was an accident (or so he said) but it wasn’t like he couldn’t have also gotten paint in his eyes at one point.

He heeded his advice. Yusuke was kind enough to wait until he did so. Akira wondered how long it would take for Yusuke to just start painting anyway.

He felt the brush fit into his eye socket and curve around down, above his cheek bone. Very confident but delicate strokes across his eyelid, and then repeated on the other side. He decided this was much better than slugs. Though still just as goopy.

The brush lifted, and did not come back down. “There,” Yusuke began, sounding satisfied. “Now, please remain very still. I will return in just a moment.”

Akira obliged, keeping his eyes shut tight, careful not to scrunch. He heard footsteps and a door opening. Yusuke was probably getting their camera. They’d bought a very nice one for situations like this. “Non-portable art,” or anything that could wash away. Thinking on it, Akira supposed he wouldn’t mind being on display for an art show.

He heard Yusuke come back, accompanied by some clicking and clunking. He probably also brought in a light, since he tended to be very particular about his pictures. Akira appreciated that his face-canvas was being given such fancy treatment. He hoped he was doing the art justice.

There was shuffling, the sound of curtains opening, the buzz of a lamp. And eventually, many, many clicks. Yusuke always took bunches of pictures, with light adjustments and in different positions. He’d learned how to use a camera very well, at this point. Akira was glad to see it, because initially Yusuke had been helpless with one.

The clicking went off and on. Akira sat through it, beginning to doze off again. When Yusuke had said ‘afternoon,’ that realistically could’ve meant 12:01 p.m. right? Which meant it would be perfectly reasonable to sleep for a few more hours. Just an innocent catnap. He’d bet anything Morgana was still sleeping. And how was that fair?

He was thoroughly lost in cat-jealousy thoughts, and he did not notice the clicking stop. So, the sound of Yusuke’s voice scared him right out of his drowsiness.

“You can move about now. I’ve finished,” he said. Gah.

So, no naps for him (yet), but Akira guessed he was getting a little bit cramped anyway. He stretched out properly this time and opened his eyes. He watched as Yusuke turned off the extra light, carefully putting the camera down on their dresser.

Yusuke looked to Akira and smiled very sweetly. Akira grinned back, entirely sure he looked very silly. His whole face was presumably blue, after all. He was still thinking of a bird name.

Yusuke sat down at the foot of their bed. He fiddled a bit with his fingers, and scratched at the drying paint on his hands. A learned habit, Akira had noticed.

“I do hope you slept well.”

“Mm,” Akira replied, pushing himself up. “I think you gave me weird dreams.” He felt around some for his glasses. If paint got on them, that’d just be too bad for him. He wanted to see.

Yusuke reached out and picked up what must’ve been Akira’s pair. “Did I?”

This tended to be a typical morning procedure. Akira reached out and took them from Yusuke.

“Thanks,” Akira began, finding himself pretty sure Yusuke’s hands were covered in paint. Maybe it was inevitable his glasses would get messy. “You did.”

Yusuke swallowed. “I apologize. You seemed to be sleeping quite soundly.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ah, vision at last.

Yusuke seemed relieved. Akira was sure if he told him about his slug encounter, he would take a good fifteen minutes connecting it to art and philosophy. Which would be fine, and probably incredibly amusing, but Akira’s face felt itchy and scratchy. He’d tell him after he washed all this art off. He picked at it a bit.

It wasn’t like Yusuke wouldn’t notice, obviously, but it probably gave him the wrong idea. “The paint is thoroughly non-toxic. There is nothing to worry about.” He rubbed hard on his hand.

Akira wasn’t worried. There were things to worry about with Yusuke, but he wouldn’t consider this one of them. Yusuke was particular: it was a completely defining trait of his. No, Akira would not trust him with their grocery money. He would also not trust him left alone in a candy store. But he was considerate, and precise, and attentive. Especially to his art. And _especially_ , Akira would bashfully admit, to him.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t still tease him, though. Maybe as just a little get-back.

“It’s not at all?”

Yusuke straightened himself up. Which was a bit funny to watch considering his typically fantastic posture. It was more like he shuffled his shoulders and puffed out his chest, like some dramatic old Frenchman.

“Absolutely. I would never let you near such toxins, not even dream of such a thing,” he said surely. It was hard to not constantly give Yusuke fond looks.

Akira failed. He was a fond look giving machine. He grinned wide, a little from endearment, and a little from mischief. “So, a kiss would be fine?”

_Give me a smooch, art boy._ It would probably be better than paint water. Actually, he really really hoped this would be better than paint water, for at least the sake of his pride.

“Ah,” Yusuke began, giving way a short sigh. “An innocent request turned devilish, I see.” Yusuke was also a fond look giving machine. They could make it a competition. The most sugary and sweet one in the world. The kind that would give Morgana hairballs, the poor cat.

Akira didn’t say anything. He looked at Yusuke, guilty but not regretful, and waited. It was only kind of devilish, he thought. He could do much worse. He could do better too, but there was absolutely no fun in that, and no kisses either.

Yusuke stood and walked right up next to Akira, standing just where he was before. Akira gave him an innocent look and it made Yusuke smile. Which was only more incentive to get better at those. Lying at interrogations would just be an added little bonus.

Yusuke was an all or nothing kind of guy. Akira knew this. So he wasn’t surprised when Yusuke cupped his face and leaned down to give him a kiss. First on the cheek, then on the lips. Soft and sweet. Lovey and dovey.

Akira was very unhappy to see that when they pulled away, a grand total of none of the paint had gotten onto Yusuke. A foiled plan. Yusuke wiped at his lips anyway. How rude, Akira thought to himself, you mean to say he didn’t want second-hand (second… face?) paint on his mouth? Like some kind of moderately health conscious member of society?

_You drank paint water, Yusuke. You’ve eaten grass before, Yusuke._

The thought made him chuckle.

“What is it?” Yusuke asked, sitting himself down on the bed.

He probably wouldn’t appreciate the thought. “Nothing,” Akira said, fiddling with a piece of hair. He thought of changing the subject.“Did you get the picture you wanted?”

The question made Yusuke beam. Meaning it was a good question, then. “Indeed. I took several. Adjustments do need to be made, however.”

“Good to hear,” Akira said. He was glad Yusuke had become accustomed to editing digital photos. He was very against it at first, pretty much because he didn’t really understand what the editing was. It wasn’t like photoshopping things in, just changing around saturation and lighting. This was another hobby he’d picked up. He had never accidentally recreated Isaac Newton in Adobe, though.

Yusuke seemed content. “I will most certainly show you the completed product.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Akira replied, sounding sort of stuffy. His nose itched. Not exactly in a sneezy way, but it was annoying him. He wanted to sniff, but he also didn’t want to snort up Yusuke’s project. Yucky. “I think I want to wash this off, now.”

“Ah, of course.” Yusuke moved to let Akira off the bed. He hovered there quietly as Akira got up and followed him to the bathroom.

Okay? “What’s up?” Akira asked.

Yusuke pressed his lips together, and once again played idly with his fingers. “Oh. I simply thought to help you. As a penance, perhaps.”

Akira scoffed. “Strong word, there.”

He didn’t mind Yusuke helping. He’d probably need it, or he’d give up halfway and finish at midnight. What wasn’t inherently tender about getting paint rubbed off his face? Oh, and he couldn’t forget the peeling. It wasn’t a super great smell, either. He was gonna have such a look going on for this.

They walked in. Akira turned on the light and readied himself for a face scrubbing. He wondered if any paint got in his hair. That would suck getting out. He looked in the mirror, his mind set on checking, and thoroughly surprised himself at his reflection.

So his bird guess? He was kind of sort of close.

He’d made his whole face very lightly blue. There were feathers painted around his eyes that very gracefully formed into wings bending out and upwards towards his forehead. Little patterns of flowers and leaves framed his face and fell in swooping designs. It was all done in different shades of blue, he had to look deeply to see all the detail. Except for on his cheeks. In a thick gold sat long tears layered on top of each other, glittering gracefully. They traveled all the way down to his chin, looking like they might drip down on their own at any moment.

It was gorgeous.

He wanted to touch it.

Akira pressed his fingers into his cheeks, and squished upwards. It was sticky, and it didn’t give way much. But the farther he went, the more it moved. It got on his hands, blue and smudgy, all blending together.

He was being watched. “I’m not sure that’s the most effective way.” Yusuke commented.

Akira didn’t stop. This was getting kind of fun. “I feel like,” he started, poking a bit harder to see how much he could rub off, “the slime in those stim videos.”

Yusuke laughed lightly at that. “I suppose we do all experience art in our own ways.”

Akira watched him absentmindedly through the mirror's reflection, while still giving his face a very blue massage. Yusuke grabbed a rag, and turned on warm water. He also took out a bottle from one of their cupboards. He had all sorts of painting things stored away, so it wasn’t all that surprising. Akira had found about eight bottles of acetone in Yusuke’s dorm room years ago. He remembered then gaining a certain understanding of Yusuke’s budgeting problems.

He placed his materials down. “Will you be satisfied soon?” he asked, now watching Akira closely.

Akira paused mid-squish. He looked at Yusuke from the corner of his eye. “You want to give it a try?”

Yusuke blinked at him. And then visibly considered it.

“I’ve no reason to object, I suppose.”

Double the squish. That probably could’ve gone fifty-fifty. Akira dragged his fingers off his face, careful not to touch anything. They didn’t need a blue bathroom, too. He held his own hands, and let Yusuke reach over to him.

Yusuke, who gave this a little more forethought than Akira had, removed his glasses first. Yeah, smart move. He couldn’t exactly wear them while they washed his face, anyway. He followed Yusuke’s hands as best he could when he put the glasses down, and followed them back up as he rested his palms on Akira’s face.

He pressed inwards and held him there for a second, and then moved his palms farther up just past his cheekbones. It made Akira quietly giggle, just quick little exhales. It felt way weirder when someone else was doing it. Not that it hadn’t felt a bit weird when he’d done it himself.

Yusuke was smiling too. Akira was very adamantly keeping his eyes open, which sometimes proved to be a challenge. He was gonna sit there and stare him down like this was the height of romance.

Yusuke placed his thumbs on the crook of Akira jawline, and swiped with his fingers outwards on his cheeks. He stayed there, just looking at him.

Akira leaned into it, letting his cheeks take the grunt of the squish. “Having fun?”

Yusuke tapped his fingers lightly. “As much as you will let me.”

Akira nestled himself farther into Yusuke’s hands. It scrunched his face up more. Now _this_ was amore. He was the king of romance.

“You know, we are wasting water,” Yusuke said, smile growing ever wider.

In reply, Akira (very masterfully) kept as blank an expression as possible while giving him fish lips.

That got a genuine laugh out of Yusuke, and he took his hands away. It was always nice to get laughs out of him. He didn’t used to, at least not very often. That was, other than his occasional hearty chuckle when he was feeling an odd kind of inspired. But Akira liked those ones, too.

Yusuke scrubbed his hands as well as he could in the water, and then wet down the rag. “Let us get to work, then.”

He was very gentle, wiping off big chunks and rinsing the cloth whenever it got cold. Alright, this may have been better than Akira had anticipated. Yusuke was considerate and routined. Working through section after section, and making sure no water dribbled down onto his clothes. It was almost nice, even with the inevitable scrubbing that came with it. Yusuke picked up the mystery bottle, and Akira gave it a look.

Yusuke had always been good at reading him. “It is coconut oil,” he explained, unscrewing the cap. “Oils do well to get paint off of skin.”

Akira made a noise of understanding, and Yusuke went back to his work. It was less rough this time. But it did make him feel super greasy. He was pretty sure coconut oil was good for your skin? Maybe this would turn out to be a miniature spa session. He wondered if Yusuke was any good at nail art.

“Close your eyes, now,” said Yusuke. Akira was also pretty sure coconut oil was not good for the eyes. Just a wild guess. He did as he was asked, and Yusuke continued, very careful on his eyelids. Very, _very_ careful around his eyes.

Oh, yeah. That reminded Akira of something. “I have a question.”

Yusuke hardly hesitated. “Anything.”

“Why was I crying?”

Yusuke stopped, just for a moment. “Ah,” A silence sat. An air of not quite guilt, but certainly something heavy fell over him. It made Akira second guess asking.

Suddenly, Yusuke sighed very deeply. “I suppose you could call it a kind of reflection. It was only that, in your rest… you simply seemed horribly melancholic. As if you were terribly pained. I do regret not waking you, in the pursuit of my art, to which I apologize for.”

Akira felt really bad for doing this, but he couldn’t help but snort at the answer. Which then made him start to cough like a maniac, since he’d just wiffed up some coconut oil.

Yusuke retreated immediately. “Have I gotten some in your mouth? I’m horribly sorry.”

“No, don’t worry. That’s not it,” Akira said. He was fine, he was chill. He wiped around his eyes. Oil was kind of gross, actually.

“Oh.”

He should probably elaborate, since Yusuke looked very confused. “It’s just... funny you say I looked sad. Because the dream I was having just was about the opposite,” Akira began, leaning back onto the counter. “It was about slugs. Ones on my face, specifically. It made me laugh thinking I looked upset.”

Yusuke paused, obviously processing. “Slugs… you say?”

_Slugs…_ he said. “Yeah.”

“Were they… causing you any discomfort?” Yusuke asked, his expression growing a little furrowed.

Akira shook his head. “They were just hanging out.”

Yusuke was obviously considering this. It made him smile too, of course, but he was lost in thought.

With a quirk of an eyebrow, he came to a conclusion. “Perhaps they meant something more profound. The ways of the subconscious are ever mysterious.”

Akira smiled. “Maybe.”

Yusuke wet down the rag again and started up on cleaning, lightly scrubbing just as carefully as before. He was still thinking, Akira could tell.

“You know, due to ancient influences, a slug is considered to be more of a spiritual being than an earthly being. In symbolism, that is,” he said.

“Is it now?” Akira asked, having known this would happen. Of course it would, this was Yusuke. He always kept little random pieces of knowledge about symbolic references in art and literature. And he’d always go on tangents whenever something caught his interest, too.

Which was just fine, as far as Akira was concerned. He was happy to hear it. Maybe he was covered in paint and coconut oil, but they were working on it. Sometimes, this was what your days were like. Lazy, and a bit slimy, and filled with spiritual slugs. He hoped that his skin would glow like the goddamn north star after this.

And, as usual, they’d fly down a list of topics, starting at one point and ending at another. Yusuke would lose himself in talking, and Akira would love to listen.

Which left the afternoon ending the way it began. Feeling goopy.

And slugs.

**Author's Note:**

> a VERY beautiful fanart done by @twilitremlit on tumblr right [here](https://honeydots.tumblr.com/post/613918095221964800/61-were-you-drawing-me-for-the-ask-meme)! ;w; 
> 
> tumblr:[honeydots](https://honeydots.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter: [honey_dots](https://twitter.com/honey_dots)


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